Tea
by tromana
Summary: The Doctor takes Martha home to sort a few things out. All she wants from him is a cup of tea.


So, the editing process begins. I've learned a lot in the past couple of years so I really want to at least clean up some of my older fics. I'm also hoping it'll get me back into writing for Doctor Who. Anyway. Enough chit-chat. x tromana (22nd Oct '09)

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**Title:** Tea  
**Author:** tromana  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters:** Ten, Martha  
**Spoilers:** Vague 'Smith and Jones' reference.  
**Summary:** The Doctor takes Martha home to sort a few things out. All she wants from him is a cup of tea.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything to do with Doctor Who, they belong to the BBC.  
**Notes:** Please excuse the student stereotypes which I put in (which I don't actually conform to - or know anyone who does). This was just a vaguely amusing idea that popped into my head after having my xth cup of tea today.

**Tea  
**  
She'd only left him alone in her kitchen for five minutes. Knowing she was a student, the Doctor had expected the place to be a tip, with clothes strewn everywhere. Rough notes, newspapers and magazines to the ceiling, the odd alcohol bottle and maybe even a customary cone. He'd seen students, drunk, finding it amusing to steal them before. Human students, after all, were a funny breed, nothing like anywhere else in the Universe. Rowdy didn't even begin to describe it. So it came as rather a shock to him that she announced that not only did she live alone, but the place was tidy.

"Sorry for the mess, she said," he grumbled under his breath. "I wasn't expecting guests any time soon. This place is too tidy! What can she be doing, reorganising her books?!"

Throwing shut the cupboard door as if it offended him, because it wasn't where she stored her tea bags, he proceeded to the next cupboard. Why was it becoming an impossible task to find her tea? All she'd suggested was that he that he made them both a cup of tea whilst she straightened up the place and wrote a cheque for her landlord.

"Any of these places would be perfectly sensible to store tea bags, Martha Jones," he cursed "You're just not making sense right now."

Finally, he threw open her final cupboard to be greeted with rows and rows of tea bags. In true Martha form, she had it all neatly ordered, though not to the stage of alphabetical or country of production. She had everything from strawberry and raspberry, to Earl Grey to a few nice standard brands. Running his hand through is hair automatically; he knew he was instantly confused. How was he to know what tea he wanted, never mind what tea she wanted? This was worse than trying to work out why the Judoon had pulled them all up on the moon. Now that was a long while ago. Yet this was his first visit to Martha's flat and he had no idea what her favourite tea was out of the collection she had amassed.

"I guess I'll just have to have a look then," he sighed.

He could hear the sound of Martha talking dejectedly to a family member. This place wasn't good for her. They obviously relied on her too much, forgot she was only twenty-three and needed to live a little. To be honest, he thought she did too. The mutter of 'Hold on Mum, that's Leo, I'll call you back in a minute' as he heard her potter around her living room sent shivers down his spine. Still, there was nothing he could do but make tea for now. And then get her back to the TARDIS. Carefully, he pulled out each box one by one and allowed the contents to spill over the counter. This wasn't helping; she seemed to drink each one at an equal rate. He heard her clear her throat behind him, startling him and successfully spreading a box of Ceylon teabags across her floor. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw the extent of the damage – the bags had literally been sprawled across the entirety of her kitchen.

"Care to explain, Doctor?" she grinned as she switched her phone off.

"I… um… I…"

For once, he was at a loss. She flicked on the kettle, pulled out two of her favourite mugs and placed them down amongst the piles of tea. Lining up the boxes the Doctor had ransacked, she began to help him methodically sort through them, whilst casually throwing a decaf teabag into her mug. "Tea?" she paused. "I have plenty."

end


End file.
